From Secular Constraints to Spiritual Depths: An Epistemological Journey
Challenging Our Modern Perception of Reality with Charles Taylor and Jean-Luc Marion
Have you ever paused to consider what shapes your perception of the world—in particular, your experience of it? Is it merely the conceptual knowledge you've accumulated over time? Or is there something more to the equation—something less definite and more basic—an unthought, background framework of assumptions that allow our experiences to gain intelligibility, like Charles Taylor’s “social imaginary?”1
Both of these—our conceptual knowledge and our background framework of assumptions—factor into how we perceive and experience the world. Together they forge the epistemic framework that enables us to understand the data of sense perception. But how are we to understand this epistemic framework, this worldview? Is it simply a picture we use to re-present the world to ourselves, as Heidegger argues in “The Age of the World Picture?”2 To a degree, yes. Our epistemic framework provides us with conceptual furniture for the data of our experience to find a place to “take a seat” in our imagination and be identified with a concept. However, our epistemic framework also performs the operation of mapping out the conditions of the possibility of experience; it forms the overarching horizon according to which our experience is framed by placing limits on how we interpret our experience and what we identify as “real” experience. This overarching horizon can be called our “horizon of possibilities.”
Conceptual Furniture
As mentioned above, our conceptual furniture allows the data of our experience to “take a seat” in our imagination. They are the different neural connections we have formed over time that allow us to equate an object we see or a feeling we feel with a particular concept. If I see a red, apple-shaped fruit hanging from a tree, I know it is an apple because I already have access to the concept of what an apple is. Similarly, when my heart starts racing and I feel a certain pressure on my chest, I know I am experiencing anxiety because I already have an image or concept of what anxiety is. Thus, the conceptual furniture in our imagination can be understood as the mental images or intentional objects we acquire over time, allowing us to “seat” a particular object or experience in our imagination.
But what happens if I see something for which I don’t have a mental image or concept? Am I completely devoid of understanding it? This is almost never the case. Even if I don’t have the conceptual furniture for it to “take a seat” in my imagination, I still have a notion of what it is. Just as there are conceptual pieces of furniture in my imagination, there are also different rooms where different kinds of phenomena can be placed. This is why, if we see a piece of fruit in the marketplace that we haven’t seen before, we can still situate it in the room for fruit. Between the context in which I find it (the fruit section in the market) and its different qualities, I can gather an idea of what it is like. Thus, even if we don’t recognize what type of fruit it is, it will be placed in the room where the conceptual furniture for fruit is arranged. In this way, we can easily go from having no proper name or concept for something to finding a place for it in our imagination.
Horizon of Possibilities
The second aspect of our epistemic framework is that it provides our intentional gaze with a particular “horizon of possibilities.” This “horizon of possibilities” consists of our most basic assumptions or presuppositions about how we should interpret our experiences and what qualifies as experience. It forms the “background” framework against which things gain intelligibility—our “social imaginary.” Unlike our conceptual furniture, which provides us with intentional concepts or mental images to understand an object or experience, the horizon of possibilities places limits on how we interpret and perceive our experiences.
Our “horizon of possibilities” determines what we allow into our minds and how we incorporate experiences into our imagination. It sets the overall boundaries for interpreting information or experience (the size and layout of the house within which our conceptual furniture resides). Thus, our horizon of possibilities is more subconscious and primary than our conceptual furniture because it predetermines what can fit into our imagination and where we place different experiences within it.
A good metaphor for our “horizon of possibilities” is that it predetermines the aperture of our intentional gaze. It dictates how we handle phenomena that do not fit within this aperture and how we sort phenomena that challenge our horizon of possibilities. This means, most importantly, that it stands between us and intuition. It prevents us from interpreting experience as given and can reframe our experience to fit more comfortably within the aperture of our intentional gaze or the layout of our house.
Some Examples
One example of how our “horizon of possibilities” frames our understanding of our experience is exemplified by religious fundamentalists. When they encounter evidence, say, of evolution or of people being nice who they don’t think can be nice, instead of allowing their “horizon of possibilities” to expand to accommodate this new information or experience, they impose a prejudged concept onto the information so that their belief system can remain stable. Thus, when presented with evidence for some sort of evolution (not even necessarily Darwinian), they identify this information as fraudulent, and when presented with evidence that a person they understand to be sinful is kind and generous, they automatically allow their prejudged characterization of this person to replace the evidence of this person’s full humanity.
Another example of how our “horizon of possibilities” frames our understanding and inhibits us from allowing experience to challenge our presuppositions is secularism. Secularism (e.g., disenchantment) affects just about everyone in the West today. This is because we are taught that everything operates according to mechanical laws (whether ordained by a God who set the machinery into motion or by happenstance). The objective or empirical world, we are told, is merely a constant reiteration of certain laws moderating the endless exchange of matter and energy that operates according to the laws of thermodynamics. Space-time is the frame of all that is, and that which lies outside space-time (God, the supernatural) could only enter into space-time by disrupting the laws of nature or by interacting with us in our subjectivity.
Because of this understanding of God as supernatural and only capable of interacting with us subjectively, we have, in effect, banished Him from appearing outside our imagination except through miraculous disruptions of natural laws. Any experience that would challenge this notion—God being present in the immanent frame or saturating nature—is, by default, regarded as a subjective experience and a misinterpretation of reality. Consequently, if God were to disclose Himself to us, it could only be perceived subjectively. Thus, every moment of transcendent fullness or transcendent beauty is brought into question, potentially dismissed as merely a product of inner suggestibility.
This understanding of God as supernatural and subjective, only capable of proving Himself by breaking the laws of nature or by exciting the imagination, has created a buffer between our subjectivity and any possible extrinsic meaning. As Charles Taylor puts it, we have developed a "buffered self."3 This buffer prevents us from interpreting any unexplainable or transcendent experience as an intuition of an intelligible or noumenal reality. Instead, such experiences are automatically deemed subjective, existing only within the mind. This, as Taylor effectively argues in A Secular Age, is the definitive feature of disenchantment and of our late-modern selves: our exclusion of any intelligible or spiritual content from "objective" reality. This is what separates us from our pre-modern ancestors. We have buffered selves that can’t even handle the concept of sacrament or sanctity and thus lack the capacity for extrinsically imposed meaning, whereas our ancestors had “porous selves” that naturally accepted such meanings.4
The Buffered vs. the Porous Self
The porous self differentiates itself from our present buffered self by not promoting a firm division between inner and outer. For the porous self, meanings come from one’s environment and originate there. Thus, there is minimal thought given to separating what is subjective from what is objective; mind and matter are, in this case, one. This distinction allowed our ancestors, who had porous selves, to experience not only things like demons or spirits of the woods, as Charles Taylor mentions in A Secular Age, but also the holiness of relics and transcendent beauty in nature as objective realities. For them, it was common to experience a sort of force or energy issuing forth from the environment, with the meaning provided by their surroundings. Relics of a Saint or the Eucharist were “charged objects” that they didn’t interpret as merely subjective experiences but as objective realities emerging from their environment.5
This change from the porous self, which perceived the meaning of things as emerging from outside oneself, to the buffered self, which perceives meanings as emerging from one’s subjective interpretation of sense data, accounts for why we no longer seem to have access to transcendent or intelligible/spiritual reality. With the porous self, the natural and what today we call “supernatural” were not easily differentiable. God may not have been seen as matter (pantheism), but He was in matter and manifest even by / through matter. He was truly the one in whom “we dwell and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). For our ancestors, the intelligible or spiritual reality, whether manifest to intuition or the naked eye, was perceived to be as real or realer than matter. Demons, angels, saints, and God all had an intelligible or spiritual reality, and their presence was experienced as if coming from outside oneself, as a sort of field of force impressing itself upon one.6
The Problem with the Buffered Self
It is only with the arrival of thinkers like Descartes, Locke, Hume, and Kant that the subject-object divide took hold of our consciousness.7 The success of scientific (empirical) research in allowing humans to manipulate nature to their liking just further exacerbated the divide. Generations of critiques of metaphysical systems that did not respect this divide, coupled with the gnostic tendency in Protestantism to dissociate God from matter, enabled the buffered self to become the dominant framework. This buffered self became the background assumption embedded in our social imaginary.8
As a result, when we encounter something that appears to be miraculous or a landscape that impresses upon us an enchanted or having transcendental or spiritual meaning, we don’t interpret the experience as a miracle or perceive ourselves as encountering something outside of ourselves. Rather, we interpret the experience as merely a mental response triggered by our brain acting in a certain way.
This is why anyone today who encounters something transcendent or seemingly supernatural as if it lies outside themselves is made to interpret these experiences as merely a mental hiccup, a hallucination—an experience which could only have occurred inside their mind. For us, our horizon of possibilities cannot exceed the “immanent frame,” because before we are ever conscious of it, we are taught to adopt certain background assumptions about reality. We are taught to adopt a secular materialist intentional aperture or horizon of possibilities, effectively cutting ourselves off, de jure, from transcendence and spiritual or intelligible realities.
Consequently, we no longer have the porous self of our ancestors but a buffered self. Instead of associating a demonic presence felt in the woods with something outside of ourselves (the woods) or the Grace of God felt in the presence of the relics of a saint with something outside of ourselves (the bones of the saint), we now associate the creepy feeling in the woods with superstition and the approach of the transcendent in sacred matter (relics or the Eucharist during Mass or Liturgy) with internal suggestibility.
Allowing Meaning to Be Given by Phenomena
To truly understand our place in the world, we must allow meaning to be given by phenomena and to come from elsewhere, issuing forth from our environment to impress itself upon us. This involves recognizing the supernatural or better “Being” as manifesting itself and saturating nature. Rather than imposing our subjective interpretations onto the world, we need to be open to the meanings that emerge from the world around us. This means perceiving the natural and the spiritual / intelligible as interconnected, where the environment itself provides significance and reveals deeper truths.
When we allow our environment to communicate meaning, we open ourselves to a richer, more profound experience of reality. The natural world is not just a backdrop for human activity but a dynamic, living reality that can inform and transform our understanding. By acknowledging the presence of the Infinite in the natural world, we recognize that meaning and purpose are not confined to our subjective minds but are intrinsic to the fabric of existence itself.
By embracing the meanings that emerge from our environment, we begin to break down the barriers of the buffered self and reconnect with the deeper realities that transcend mere subjective interpretation. This openness to external meaning lays the groundwork for encountering what Jean-Luc Marion calls "saturated phenomena"—experiences that overwhelm our conceptual frameworks and reveal aspects of reality that exceed our understanding.9
Saturated Phenomena
Saturated phenomena are events or experiences that surpass our capacity to fully grasp them, challenging and expanding our conceptual horizons. These phenomena are characterized by their excess of meaning, which cannot be contained or fully explained by our existing mental constructs. They invite us to step beyond our usual ways of knowing and to encounter reality in its fullness and complexity.
One of the most profound ways we encounter saturated phenomena is through the face of the other.
The Face of the Other
The face of the other, as articulated by Jean-Luc Marion, represents a unique instance of saturated phenomena. The face of the Other physically allows us to see our own reflection in their eyes, yet the givenness of this person, as they unveil their inner depths to us, presses upon us the imperative to recognize their depths and how they will ever defy our attempts to comprehend them. They are an icon of the infinite God as they are made in the image of God, thus cutting a figure that is ineffable and infinite in its capacity to continue to disclose itself to us.10
The Saturated Phenomena of Revelation
Just as the face of the Other reveals an infinite depth that transcends our understanding, so too do the saturated phenomena of divine revelation. These events transcend our conceptual framework and expand our awareness, offering encounters that reveal aspects of reality we previously could not comprehend. Revelation is inherently an encounter that exceeds our understanding, manifesting the divine in a way that our existing mental categories cannot fully grasp, challenging and expanding our understanding of reality itself.11
Saturated phenomena of divine revelation transform our very being by unveiling truths beyond the scope of human reason and empirical investigation. These encounters open us to a reality that surpasses the confines of the buffered self, presenting the divine as a saturated phenomenon—an encounter with God that defies full comprehension and invites participation in the infinite mystery of the divine.
Providing an Answer to the Buffered Self
The buffered self, with its limited horizon of possibilities, confines meaning to the realm of subjectivity. This framework leads to a dismissal of transcendence, reducing all experiences to mere mental content without objective reality. Saturated phenomena, especially those of revelation, provide a powerful antidote to this limitation. They are experiences that overwhelm our capacity to fully grasp them, breaking through the subjective barriers erected by the buffered self by their very givenness. By doing so, they affirm the existence of a reality beyond the subjective, one that is rich with meaning and capable of transforming our understanding of ourselves and the world.
Expanding Our Awareness and Being
When we experience a saturated phenomenon, especially that of revelation, we encounter a reality that surpasses our intellectual grasp. This expansion of awareness challenges us to grow and evolve, pushing the boundaries of our comprehension. As St. Maximus the Confessor wrote in his Ambigua:
The knowledge of divine realities is twofold… There is relative knowledge based only on reasoning and concepts, and lacking the actual perception of what is known through experience, and it is this knowledge that we use to order our affairs in this present life. On the other hand, there is knowledge that is true and properly so called, which is gained only by actual experience—without reasoning and concepts—and provides by grace through participation, a whole perception of the One who is known… For those who are wise say that it is impossible for reasoning about God to coexist with the direct experience of God, or for concepts about God to coexist with the immediate perception of God.12
This understanding underscores that the saturated phenomena of revelation, a true encounter with the uncreated God, is by nature a saturated phenomenon where the excess of the experience marks the only expressable aspect of it. It expands our horizon of possibilities and rearranges our conceptual furniture. Such experiences invite us to participate in a deeper reality, expanding our being beyond its previous limitations.
Personal Experience: Encountering God Beyond the Horizon
In my own experience, encountering God has always been the impress of something upon me that exceeds the horizon of what I considered possible. He impresses Himself upon me with a love that illuminates depths within me that I didn’t know existed, only to embrace these depths in a manner greater than I could ever deserve. This divine love humbles me by exposing my hidden imperfections, only to then envelop me with a love that surpasses them. This process of illumination and healing testifies to the transformative power of God’s energies. It also reveals that the spiritual reality we are conditioned to ignore becomes manifest precisely when it exceeds the aperture of our gaze, rendering the horizon of possibilities that shape our experience insufficient or inoperative.
Conclusion
Broadening our horizon of possibilities to include the spiritual or intelligible is not just a philosophical exercise—it is a necessary step towards a more profound and meaningful existence. It allows us to make larger sense of the world, understand our true nature, and encounter the divine in ways that transform us. In doing so, we overcome the limitations of a purely materialistic worldview and open ourselves to the infinite possibilities that lie beyond the horizon. Saturated phenomena, especially those of revelation, expand our awareness and being, breaking through the subjective confines of the buffered self and affirm the existence of a reality with an excess of meaning. As we embrace the richness of the spiritual realm, we find ourselves better equipped to navigate the complexities of life with a deeper sense of purpose and fulfillment. Ultimately, this broader perspective enables us to live in a universe that is not just a collection of material objects but a vibrant, interconnected reality permeated by the presence of the Infinite.
Charles Taylor's concept of the modern social imaginary can be seen as the collective set of values, institutions, laws, and symbols through which people imagine their social existence, the relationships they form, and the norms and expectations that shape their everyday practices. It encompasses the implicit, often unarticulated, common understandings that underpin social life and make possible shared practices and a sense of legitimacy. Unlike explicit ideologies, the social imaginary is pre-theoretical and carried in images, stories, and legends, forming the backdrop of everyday life. Taylor uses this concept to explain the evolution of belief systems, particularly how the modern secular age has emerged from shifts in the social imaginary, influencing how individuals perceive meaning, purpose, and the divine. This concept is central to understanding the cultural and historical processes that shape collective social understanding and individual identity. Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2007.
Heidegger, Martin. "The Age of the World Picture." In The Question Concerning Technology and Other Essays. Translated by William Lovitt, 115-154. New York: Harper & Row, 1977.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Here we might be tempted to think: Oh, those were just fairy tales or legend or hallucinations, but this is where I’d once again refer you to Charles Taylor’s commentary on Hieronymus Bosch in A Secular Age and open your mind to the fact that phenomena which have not been excluded from our horizon of possibilities and automatically interpreted according to the limits and contours of our modern imagination are likely to take on a quite different quality and flavor even to the extent of the experience of things which we no longer would allow ourselves to think as existing outside of our minds. Moreover, see the book: The Gurus, the Young Man, and Saint Paisios for a rather acute testimony to how even our age there are experiences which can have comprehensive and convincing phenomenological description and wide reception that are easily attributable to mass hysteria or psychological disturbance.
See: Descartes, René. Meditations on First Philosophy. Translated by John Cottingham. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Locke, John. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding. Edited by Peter H. Nidditch. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975. Hume, David. A Treatise of Human Nature. Edited by David Fate Norton and Mary J. Norton. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Kant, Immanuel. Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by Paul Guyer and Allen W. Wood. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998.
This is a loose reader of A Secular Age. For an understanding of how Ockham’s nominalism played a part in providing the conditions of possibility of such a divide by eliminating the Platonic universal and founding each meaning in the individual’s consciousness, see: Gillespie, Michael Allen. The Theological Origins of Modernity. Chicago, University Of Chicago Press, 2009.
Marion, Jean-Luc. Being Given: Toward a Phenomenology of Givenness. Translated by Jeffrey L. Kosky. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2002.
ibid.
ibid.
Maximus the Confessor, Saint. On Difficulties in the Church Fathers: The Ambigua, Volume 1. Translated by Nicholas Constas. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2014.